Hymn For the Missing
by Anera527
Summary: It has been eleven years since OotP. Lives have been lost, bonds destroyed. In a world where the Order is destroyed, the Ministry barely surviving, and Voldemort gaining power, Harry must depend on himself to survive.
1. Chapter 1

"_**Hymn For the Missing"**_

_Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Harry Potter. Nor do I own the lyrics of the song, Not Alone by Red._

_Author's Note: Hi, I know it's been a long time since I've updated anything, but I've been having a lot of different activities distracting me. Now that I've started a number of different stories, I can finally start updating again!_

_Your heart is full of broken dreams  
>Just a fading memory<br>And everything's gone but the pain carries on  
>Lost in the rain again<br>When will it ever end  
>The arms of relief seem so out of reach<br>But I, I am here_

Silence. That was all that remained. In a battlefield of blood and carnage, no single thing moved. All was in the clutches of Death, who had claimed and claims all.

All, that is, save one. Even as the as the smoke of burning fires settled like smoke on the grounds of Hogwarts, the awesome sight of the remains of the biggest battle the wizarding world had ever seen, from beneath a body something moved.

So Fawkes the phoenix saw. As a phoenix, the magnificent red-gold bird was gifted with courage, intelligence, loyalty, and an immortal life. He had been in the battle and helped in his way, overrun as Hogwarts had been by Voldemort and his followers. All had died, except for Voldemort himself, who had escaped unscathed and untouched.

From Fawkes' mouth there came a low, utterly mournful cry, the sound of his sadness echoing amongst the surrounding mountains. Who was it that lived? Fawkes's own companion, Albus Dumbledore, had fallen during the fighting, vanquished by the Dark Lord himself. But there was still hope, if one of the Light had managed to survive.

Perhaps it was the phoenix's cry that managed to do it, but finally, painstakingly clawing his way back to consciousness, Harry Potter opened his eyes to find a fallen body on him. Moving sore, aching limbs, he shoved it off him-

And abruptly froze. Hermione's face looked back up at him, utterly still, stained with blood, cut, scratched, and bruised, her sightless brown eyes staring up at the stars twinkling in all their cold beauty, a mix of desperation and determination in her expression. All he remembered was battling a couple of Death Eaters and defeating them; hearing his name called; turning to find Bellatrix Lestrange behind him, her wand raised, ready to strike. He had not had time to defend himself before the Killing Curse had been cast his way-

But then a bushy brown head of hair had bounded in front of it, taking the curse for him. Shock had prevented him from taking in the sight as the body as had fallen onto him, driving him to the ground. But now, however, he was perfectly aware of just _who_ had died for him, and denial had him shaking his head in disbelief, because there was absolutely _no way_ that what he was seeing was real; Hermione could _not_ be dead, the last person he had had could not have left his side now, he couldn't be alone.

But she did not move; did not blink and slowly focus her gaze on him, and nor did she speak like she had during their years of hiding, and the certainty of his denial crumbled. Slowly, ever so slowly, he raised a shaking hand and gently closed her eyes, knowing that this would be the last time he'd ever see them-

And something inside of him broke. Perhaps it was his heart, but he barely recognized it anymore. Hermione had been the one holding the broken pieces of it together, but now she was dead, gone to a place he could not recall her from, and she had taken a piece of him with her. He had already lost so much- Ron, the entire Weasley family, Dumbledore, everyone he had ever cared about; they had been hunted down by Voldemort, one by one, murdered for entertainment. Now Hermione was dead, dead from a curse meant for him, that _he_ should have died from. Instead someone else… He wanted to curse and rage at Hermione's stubbornness, at her instincts to protect a friend, but he couldn't. He couldn't curse a friend's memory, not one who had died in such a way. Slowly he wiped at the bitter but utterly silent tears that had been steadily falling down his dirt-streaked face, but he did not try to stop them. What was the use in doing so?

It had started to rain before he realized it. Weather paid no mind to the petty problems of the mortals who inhabited the earth, but for this one time it seemed to reflect the emotions of this one lone survivor: rain began to pelt the ground in great sheets until rivers ran like tears upon the blood-soaked earth.

In that time of bleak despair, Harry might have taken his own life, unable to bear the grief or guilt, had it not been for Fawkes, who swept down upon him, gazing with black, caring eyes at the young man who sat unmindful of anything around him. Opening his beak, he let out a single quivering note of comfort and question that abruptly stopped the lad's tears and caused him to look over at the magnificent bird.

"_Fawkes_?_"_ Harry breathed, all of his attention now riveted upon the only living thing besides himself. With the rain pelting down, soaking him clear to the skin, he slowly but gracefully crept over to the phoenix, determined not to look at any of the bodies' faces as he did so. He couldn't believe his life- life, risen from the ashes of death and destruction. Never before had he fully understood this imagery of the amazing power of the phoenix.

"_Harry Potter_."

The voice caused him to jump, his nerves tight from grief and plain surprise, and for a moment he looked around for the source of the voice he had heard. Finding none, he turned back to Fawkes. "You can talk?"

Fawkes bowed his head once. _Indeed_, said the voice, but it was spoken only in Harry's mind, a soothing, golden voice that gave strength to continue on. _I speak only to my master, or in absolute need. You need help, Harry Potter._

Harry looked at him numbly. "Why do I need help?" he asked bitterly. "Voldemort's killed everyone I ever cared for. What do I need help for?"

"_Because to die now would be dishonoring all those who died for you,"_ Fawkes replied simply.

The answer served, and it sufficiently allowed Harry pause as his conflicting emotions waged their own war deep in his gut. His grief and guilt was still so great that he was sure it was burning whatever was left of his heart, but was what Fawkes said enough reason to keep on living? Of course it is, his mind said softly. Wouldn't dying now, ending his own life, make all the others' deaths in vain?

He was broken, but he was still strong. And although alone and grieving, the fact still remained that Harry Potter was a very stubborn person, whether he needed to be or not. Fawkes's words were all that was needed to allow him to bring that to the surface. He had a goal for now- to seek shelter, protect himself so the others could perhaps find some peace.

But where could he go? He didn't know if Voldemort thought he was dead or not, he might considering that he had left without double-checking. Of course, the snake-faced bastard might have left Harry alive on purpose, as a taunt that said nothing Harry cared for was safe. He should have learned that lesson years earlier, when Cedric Diggory and Sirius died…

Sirius. And as his thoughts drifted to his godfather, dead these past eleven years, he realized that he did have one place where he could be safe. Grimmauld Place, the house of the Black family. His home now, passed down to him from Sirius before the start of his sixth year at Hogwarts.

He came to realize that he was shivering, and that it was still raining. Fawkes was drenched, and Harry wondered if he would still be able to fly. "Do you want to come with me?" he asked softly. He knew Dumbledore was dead, and he wasn't sure what a wizard's familiar did if its master died.

Fawkes looked up at him with liquid black eyes. _"I would be honored to go with you, harry Potter_."

Harry stood then, tall and intimidating, gently grabbed the phoenix, and placed it upon his shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he made his way back to where Hermione lay. Looking gingerly around her, he spied his holly wand, miraculously still intact. His hand brushed hers as he reached for it, however, and the unexpected contact brought tears to his eyes again. The coldness of her skin frightened him, but this had to be his goodbye, his final farewell, and he gripped her hand.

"Thanks," he whispered. He had the impulse to kiss her, like he had before the battle had begun, but he decided not to. He wanted their final kiss to be shared by both of them, when they still had hope for tomorrow. He stood again, looking around, wishing he could bury her, unable to stand the thought of leaving her here alone…

'_Do you want her to be protected from scavengers, Harry Potter?"_ Fawkes asked softly.

Harry nodded, unable to speak.

"_I can do so."_

Harry looked over at the red-and-gold slowly, frowning. "How?" he asked in a mutter- it was the loudest his voice would get. "It's raining, and flame-"

"_Phoenix flame is not like regular fire,"_ Fawkes explained gently. _"And burning those who died has been a way of honor in many cultures. You will not be dishonoring her."_

For a long moment, Harry stood looking down at the body of his close companion. He wished with his whole being and then some that she had not died, but what was was, and as Dumbledore had once said, 'No spell can reawaken the dead.' How he wished that there was one that could. He looked around at the carnage, the bodies drenched in rain, then back at the phoenix. There was nothing else that could be done. "All right," he said softly. "Only…" and here he paused for a moment, considering, "only, let it engulf the rest of them."

Fawkes's liquid eyes pierced him again. _Even the Death eaters, Harry Potter?"_ he asked curiously.

Harry nodded jerkily. Even the Death Eaters. Although possessing no love for Voldemort's followers, and hating a few of them with everything he had, he could not allow their bodies seized by the Ministry to be ridiculed and displayed like trophies. He did not hate them so much that he would allow that to happen. He was not that cruel.

So Fawkes, using the unique flames of a phoenix, caught Hermione's robes on fire, brilliant reddish flames that burned brightly and boldly despite the pouring rain. Unable to watch, Harry turned away, placed Fawkes on his shoulder again, and turning on the spot, Disapparated away from the battlefield that had become his Hell.


	2. Grimmauld Place

"_**Chapter 2: Grimmauld Place"**_

The sound of Harry Apparating onto the front steps of Grimmauld Place was masked by the sound of a muggle dump truck set a few paces down the street. As soon as he regained his sense of balance, Harry opened the door of the house and slipped inside, not knowing if the Fidelius Charm set upon it allowed witnesses to see someone at the front door. Grimmauld Place was Unplottable and utterly invisible to any eye, muggle and wizard alike, who did not know where it was.

But Harry did not really want to find out if that still true or not, so he quietly and swiftly slid into the long hallway of the ancient house, Fawkes still holding onto his shoulder. It was just as dark and gloomy as it had been the last time he had been here almost two years ago, made even more so by the heavy layer of dust lying on everything. Even saddened and shell-shocked as he was, he couldn't help the wry smile that tugged at his mouth: As owner of Grimmauld Place, he sure wasn't keeping it clean.

"_So this was the quarters for the Order of the Phoenix all those years ago,_ Fawkes commented, swiveling his long swan-like neck to look at the decrepit walls and furnishings better. It seemed similar to a muggle haunted house, which Albus had once gone to for his own entertainment. Perhaps even creepier than that had been. _I must say no one would have expected that._

Harry snorted. "Was that a joke?" he asked quietly, moving past the mercifully silent portrait of Sirius's mother, walking silently so as to not wake her. He didn't care if he was leaving a trail of water behind him- it would dry on its own. He winced as his wet clothes rubbed against his skin, and his cuts and scrapes started to sting. He needed a bath, and a long kip. "Do you need to dry off, Fawkes?" he asked, looking at the phoenix's drenched feathers. "I can do it if you want me to."

_No. I can dry myself off, Harry Potter. I need only a perch._

"How about a perch?" Harry concurred. He turned the corner of the hall and clambered down the stairs to the kitchen, knowing there would be some chairs for Fawkes to rest on for now. He stifled a yawn. Merlin, how could he be tired after being in a battle? But he was exhausted, with bone-deep tiredness rushing through his limbs. It was two in the morning, he realized with a shock as he looked at a small automatic clock. Six hours ago the battle had begun.

The kitchen was just as depressing as the rest of the house, covered with dust and swathed with cobwebs, utterly dark and chilly. With a wave of his wand he cast some light to see the long kitchen table and the numerous chairs still set around it. A knot formed deep in the pit of Harry's stomach as he remembered the summer before his fifth year of Hogwarts, watching Mrs. Weasley making her delicious meals as the rest of them helped her before sitting down for three or four courses. He missed them, all of his friends and surrogate family, he missed them all so damn _much_.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he thought he would be able to function without breaking down again, he opened them and gripped a chair to pull it out. "Here, Fawkes," he said quietly, and the phoenix gracefully transferred himself from Harry's shoulder to the chair, as Harry slowly lit the fireplace so that it would be a bit more warm. Then, as Fawkes was drying himself off, he dried his robes and listlessly began to poke around, seeing what could be there. The cupboards were bare but for some moldy bread. He pushed his glasses farther up his nose and snorted to himself. What did he expect? No one had set foot in the house for over a year. As he sat down on the table, one foot set on the seat of one of the chairs, he supposed he would have to go out tomorrow and get something to eat for the next week or so. He still had the Muggle pounds he and Hermione had converted from wizard money a few months back, so he would go to a Muggle grocery store under disguise…

Although, he realized, he wouldn't be spending much time stuck in Grimmauld Place. News of the attack on Hogwarts would spread, and it would not do to have his allies think he was dead. He decided he would just leave the shopping trip for a later date—he would go visit Them tomorrow.

_Harry Potter?_

Fawkes' quiet question caused him to jump slightly again. Looking over, he found the phoenix blinking at him softly. "It's just Harry, Fawkes," he said, a mite wearily. "If I am to be a companion, it's just Harry." He didn't say that it would drive him crazy to be referred to by his full name—besides, in his opinion, he had always been _just Harry_, and it was something he would rather hang on to. He sighed and slid off the table. "I'm going to go clean up a little in Sirius's room, okay?" he said. "Then I'm going to go to bed—we'll be leaving later to go… someplace." He didn't want to speak of anything to anyone, he wanted, _needed_, to lock himself away in his room and just let himself cry. Hermione had at least taught him to release his tears rather than to keep them inside.

Leaving the phoenix behind, unable to care about anything at all, he climbed back up the stairs and didn't even wish Fawkes goodnight.

Author's Note: I'm sorry about the delay, and the shortness, of this chapter! It's literally almost eleven 'o' clock here at my house, and I'm exhausted. It's been busy with my senior year at high school, so this is really my first chance to update in a while. Thank you so much the review I got- that's really what inspired me to put up this chapter, and don' worry, the third chapter will be a _lot_ longer! We'll meet a couple new people and a whole new race. Read and review!


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